"... Feel free to make yourself at home. Don't.. mind the mess.." There were scattered clothes and papers lying around in his home, piles of dishes in the sink of his kitchen and some food that had definitely gone bad in the fridge. He seemed to not have gotten over his friend's, Ruth Weavers, death, still feeling depressed about it.

"... I'm going for a snack." Thatcher hesitantly added after a small and awkward silence, heading away from the growingly awkward situation.